


Flowers in Winter

by Surefall



Series: In Winter Fell the Rain [2]
Category: Cable and Deadpool, Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Uncanny X-Force, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Family Drama, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Immortality, M/M, Raising children, Superfamily, Time Travel, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-10-23 08:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10716006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Surefall/pseuds/Surefall
Summary: Wade and Nate are saving the world ... one child at a time.A sequel toHoneysuckle.





	1. Real Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> This story assumes that the reader has already read _Honeysuckle_ , so a new reader might be lost.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade tells stories and breaks the hard news to Hope ... while Nate just sleeps through all of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did sort of promise that I had other parts of _Honeysuckle_ floating around that just needed a bit of polishing ... so here they are and more is yet to come.

The birds woke Hope, chirping to each other as they swooped from branch to branch. She didn't open her eyes, she just laid there and breathed quietly, enjoying the moment between sleep and waking. If she was very, very quiet and extra crafty ... she might catch Papa with his eyes closed. He might even be asleep!

Her Papa never slept. No matter how Hope pretended to be sleeping, or pretended to still be asleep ... she had never caught him sleeping. Her Dad slept, her Dad even napped! ... but not her Papa. Papa just pretended when he laid down with her and Dad, snuggling to help keep them warm at night, curling up with them when she had trouble settling down. He would close his eyes and pretend to sleep ... but he never slept. She'd wake up and he'd be watching. Watching her and Dad with dark, dark eyes and he'd smile when he noticed her looking and he'd rub her back until she fell asleep again.

"I know you're awake," Papa said, amused.

Hope rolled over with a huff, rubbing her eyes as she crawled out of her sleep sack.

Dad was still asleep, using Papa's lap as a pillow while Papa ran his fingers through his hair.

"Grab a breakfast and come sit with me," Papa said quietly, nodding his head toward the dead fire and the root vegetables tucked neatly in with the coals. Hope stretched, and after a quick trip behind a bush, did as he suggested, sitting down beside him and leaning into his warm side. As she chewed, she _reached_ , stretching mental fingers out. Here was Dad, shielded and sleeping. Here were the swift minds of birds, there, but untouchable. Here was ... was ... barely she could grasp that there were feathers, like outlines in the wind, a dome that arched around and over her and Dad, the shadows of great wings ... the shadows shifted and her reach was snuffed out, like smoke dispersed by the wind.

"None of that now," Papa murmured, bending his head to kiss the top of hers, "That's not your power to use willy nilly. That's Nate's."

"He said I could use it," Hope muttered.

"He said you could use it when he was supervising," Papa corrected mildly.

" _You're_ supervising," Hope responded, "that's the same thing!"

"But that's not what Nate said and they're _his_ powers. If you want to use them, you have to obey his rules."

"I just wanted to _see_ you."

"See with your eyes, not with your hands ... mental hands, whatever hands."

"Dad gets to see you," Hope muttered, scowling as she shoved herself more securely into Papa's side and selfishly contemplated pushing Dad's head out of Papa's lap. Papa must have read her mind because he wrapped his arm more tightly around her, pinning her arm in place. Which was the unfairest of all because Papa was just a Healer and not a Reader like Dad or a Repeater like her and he shouldn't be able to read anything, especially not her mind ... but somehow he always did. 

"Be nice," Papa murmured, hugging her tightly, "When you get to be as old as Nate, you can see me too."

"But that'll take forever!" Hope wailed and then sheepishly covered her mouth as Dad stirred, rolling onto his side and pushing his face stubbornly into the curve of Papa's stomach, muttering grumpily as he wrapped his arm around Papa's waist.

Papa snickered, pushing his hand backwards through Dad's hair until it puffed out like a angry white rabbit, but Dad refused to move, the tense line of his shoulders slowly relaxing back into sleep. Dad needed his sleep. He hadn't slept at all when Papa had been lost and Hope hadn't liked the shadows that had started growing in Dad's one good eye. 

Hope removed her hand from her mouth and gave Papa an apologetic look, mouthing her 'sorry'. 

Papa just mouthed back 'I know' and shook his head, tucking her in close again. Hope managed to be silent for what felt like forever before she wriggled in Papa's grip and looked up, "Papa?"

"Hmmm?"

"Tell me a story."

"What kind of story?"

"A Hawkeye story."

"A girl Hawkeye story or a boy Hawkeye story."

"The first Hawkeye! The one where he rescues his family from the monsters."

Papa tilted his head, stroking the hair away from her eyes, "Why do you like this one? It doesn't have a happy ending."

"It has Lady Laura and baby Nate and this is the one where Hawkeye and Deadpool become _real_ heroes, even if it's sad." 

"Real heroes, huh?"

"They become dads!"

"Yeah ... I guess they do." Papa whispered. Then he shook his head and spoke in a stronger voice, "But they were dads before that."

"Not _really_. They just had babies. It's not the same. After Laura and Nate, they were _real_ dads. They never let their kids leave their sight for a minute!"

Papa laughed into her hair, "That _is_ the duty of real dads, isn't it?"

"I can't even go behind a tree alone!" Hope complained with a huff.

"Well, you could be kidnapped by monsters. Obviously." Papa ruffled her hair, grinning, "I've learned my dad lessons from this story."

"The wrong lessons!"

"'Kindly old blind people are not to be trusted' is the wrong lesson?"

"Papa!"

"'Children shouldn't have sweets. It's bad for them.' That lesson?"

"Argh! Papa!"

"Alright!" Papa snickered as he put a finger lightly against her lips as he glanced down at Dad, who hadn't moved despite her raised voice. She sheepishly subsided and her Papa lifted his finger to tuck her hair behind her ear, speaking more softly, "Alright ... Once upon a time ... long, long ago ... right after you were born ... "

Hope stuck her tongue out at him and he stuck his own tongue out in reply, waggling it until she giggled.

"There was a great city of metal and glass and stone called New York."

"If it was so old, why did they call it New?"

"Because it was in what used to be called the New World and they named a lot of things after places in the Old World."

Hope scrunched up her nose, "But now the New World is the Old World."

"Everything gets old eventually, even the things that were once new. One day you'll be as old as Nate ... but you'll never be as old as me." Papa flashed her a smug grin.

"That's not fair."

"Life usually isn't," Papa agreed and continued his story, "The towers of New York were taller than the tallest tree and their number greater than any forest. The people in this city were greater in number than the stars of the sky, living beside each other like ants inside a hill."

"Why did they live like ants?" Hope couldn't imagine such a place. She'd kicked over an ant hill before and all the ants had just poured out. She'd never seen so many people that they could have poured out if she had knocked their village over. Not that Dad or Papa would _let_ her knock a village over.

"Why do ants live like ants?"

"I dunno ... they're pretty small ... to help each other?"

"Exactly," Papa lightly tapped her nose as he heaved an dramatic sigh, "Now are you going to let me tell this story or are you going to question everything, my little Nate 2.0?"

Hope giggled as she crossed her eyes to see his finger and said the next part for him. "In this great city, there lived a hero called Hawkeye."

"That's my girl." Papa lifted his finger and pointed it at her playfully. Hope wriggled closer as he settled into the soft rhythm of story telling, "Hawkeye was a hero of the Order of SHIELD, the defenders of the defenceless, the helpers of the helpless, the warriors for the weak. -- which is a lot of alliteration! -- In their service, Hawkeye slew many monsters ... "

* * *

Hope sighed happily as the story ended. Clan of the Hawkeyes was one of her favorites. So was the one about Kid Hawkeye and Hawkeye's (the girl, not the boy!) Great Christmas Adventure. Though the one about the space ship named Serenity that played hide and seek with assassins was starting to sound interesting, especially when Dad told the story ... like he had really been there, flying a ship through the stars. Hope had never seen a ship.

She might be a ship flier ... if she decided not to be a Hawkeye. 

"Where are we going?" she asked, suddenly itching to practice with her bow instead of sitting with Papa and Dad.

Usually, with Papa, they traveled to a particular place, sheltered and defensible with water close by and food, all sorts of food!, tucked away. Papa was a food hoarder. Dad always said so. This place was more like a way point. Papa tilted his head, "We're already here. We won't go anywhere else before you jump back home." 

"But we just got here!" Hope protested, "I don't want to jump forward again."

"Not forward, _back_. Nate and I fixed the time distortion matrix last night. When it's finished charging up ... it'll be time for you to go."

To Hope, it sounded disturbingly final, "Go where?"

"Home."

"But ... this is my home," Hope protested, confused and a little scared of the feeling that when Papa said 'home', he meant something unknown and terrible instead of somewhere nice, "with you and Dad." 

"That's true ... but this _place_ , this _time_ ... it isn't your home ... or Nate's home ... or my home." Papa shook his head, "The old world is our home, the place where you and Nate and I were born." Papa's eyes were dark and distant and strange. "I'm sending you and Nate back where you belong." 

She opened her mouth to protest, though she didn't know what to protest beyond the unease that grew like a cold ball in her stomach. Papa plunged swiftly into the gap. "You'll like it there, I promise. That's where all the beautiful things are, like balloons and purses and glitter wands and sparkly dresses. And all the food you could possibly eat. You'll never go hungry there. Not even once. And you'll never have to sleep on the ground or outside by the fire unless you want to. Nate's dad is there and your mom is there too."

"Are you going to be there?" she asked in a small voice.

Papa was quiet for a moment and when he finally spoke, it was was soft and solemn, "I will _always_ be there. I'm already there, waiting for you. I'm going to be so _happy_ to see you again."

"You weren't there last time."

"Sure I was," Papa said gently, "it's just that Nate jumped to a bad place and couldn't take the time to find me. This time, you found me, right?" At her cautious nod he continued, "Whether you make a little time jump or a big time jump, it doesn't matter. I'll always be there, waiting for you. I promise. Even when I can't find you right away. Even when I don't always remember everything." He took a breath and lifted his chin, "You and Nate will just have to remind me if I forget, okay?" 

That wasn't completely unusual. Once or twice, Dad had to remind Papa that she already knew some things. That she wasn't a _baby_. Sometimes she did too. It was just that they had never jumped _back_ before. What if that Papa was different? "Will you still love me even if you're different?"

"You're always my baby girl even when you're a big girl," Papa leaned his head down and touched their foreheads together, close enough that she could see the darker line of blue in his pale eyes, "and I will _always_ love you. No matter what." 

"More than you love Dad?"

His voice turned teasing, "I love you more than I love food and more than I love fighting and I love you at least as much as I love Nate."

"Enough to tell stories about us?" she whispered.

Papa smiled, "Sweetheart, I will talk about nothing else."

Hope giggled in spite of herself, "That's a lot of talking."

* * *

It was only after Hope had dashed away to get her bow from Wade's pack that Nathan spoke against the warm curve of Wade's stomach, "Thank you for breaking it to her."

"You know, if you were awake, you could have joined in at any time. Any time at all," Wade said pointedly, fingers going tip tap along Nathan's hair line. 

"Mmmm, I just like listening to you talk," Nathan rumbled sleepily, not in any hurry to give up his Wade pillow, "and I wasn't awake for all of it."

"Well ... that's okay then," Wade hummed, mollified, as he carded his fingers through Nathan's hair, fingernails ghosting over his scalp in a way that sent a pleasant shiver up his spine.

"One day she's going to figure out that _you're_ Deadpool." 

The Deadpool of the stories was a foolish trickster. He got into trouble, usually of his own devising, and had to be fished out of the mess by steadier, wiser characters. After Clan of the Hawkeyes, where Deadpool became an honorary Hawkeye, this wiser character was usually Hawkeye ... but tales occurring before that featured the far too noble Cable instead. Nathan was quietly relieved that Hope had never quite gotten attached to Cable the character, preferring the familial adventures of the Hawkeyes ... a family of two dads and a series of plucky young Hawkeye children who often slipped their fathers leash to have adventures and engage in unlikely shenanigans ... far more relatable to a young girl with two overprotective dads of her own. 

"One day ... but not today," Wade shrugged and Nathan felt the shift, the smile obvious in his voice, "It will be after you get back ... so that explanation is all on you, _Cable_."

Nathan groaned in response and pushed himself up on his elbow so he could pull Wade's head down for a kiss, cupping the back of his neck as he ran his thumb down the back of Wade's ear, making him shiver.

"Bleagh, morning breath," Wade complained and then promptly kissed him again, brushing their tongues together in a languid dance, "How dare you inflict such horrors on me."

"If you didn't want to taste it later, you shouldn't have fed me those spider legs for dinner." There weren't many things that repulsed Nathan, but spider legs had made the short and dubious list.

"They taste like crab, Nate."

"My memory of crab is faint ... but I'm sure they didn't taste like that. Or have so much hair."

"I'll scrape the hair off next time," Wade grinned, pale eyes lighting up with mischief. Nathan decided it was time to head this off at the no doubt spider related pass, before whatever was cooking up there could spring forth fully formed.

"I owe Clint a debt I can't repay."

Wade's brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to follow Nathan's path from spider dinner to Hawkeye. Nathan pressed a kiss there, smiling when Wade's skin smoothed as he gave up, "How do you figure that?" 

"He took care of you when I wasn't there ... when I couldn't be there for you." 

"You _had_ to -- " Nathan covered his lips with his thumb, a gentle admonition to let him finish.

"I know. That doesn't change anything. He loved you, included you, connected you ... even when he _knew_ you still loved me. He was a good man, a better man than he probably ever realized ... and not because he helped save the world."

"Well, he did that to," Wade muttered.

"That's not what made him great." Nathan had been reminded again with Hope's story that it wasn't just saving the world that had mattered, that heroics weren't the be all end all of a man's life. "It was living every day with you and and the children, being your husband and their father ... that's what made him great."

"Not really a hero until you're a dad, huh?"

"It was the little things that changed the world." Nathan touched their foreheads together, sharing breath as he tracked the darker blue rim in pale eyes, "You loved him a lot." he murmured, running his knuckles lightly down the curve of Wade's spine.

"Yeah, I did." Wade agreed quietly, "It's funny ... because when I was with him, all I could talk about was _you_."

"Truly, he was a saint among men," Nathan grinned, "How can I ever compare to such godlike power and understanding?"

Wade grinned back, "He talked about Laura a lot too. It was why we got together in the first place. We'd just play games and talk." Wade's smile faded, "He was the only one who would just ... just let me _talk_ about you, yanno? Who didn't get jealous or tell me to shut up and ... and I missed you _so much_." 

"This time," Nathan cupped his cheek, "you won't have to miss me."

"Promise?"

"I solemnly swear that the Hawkeye slash Deadpool tag of your story will be erased. It will only be Cable slash Deadpool from here on out."

Wade laughed. 

"I still don't know what that even means," Nathan hummed, amused as Wade pressed his face into his metal shoulder and giggled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Clint Barton of this story is the fusion of his comics self and his MCU self, so his wife and children come from the MCU and most of the rest of him comes from the comics. For the sake of this story, it's enough to know that Wade and Clint were married well after Laura was killed and Nate skipped off to the future with Hope.


	2. The Better Hawkeye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate bribes Hope with the time travel equivalent of Disney World and Wade thinks video games are a valid template for weapons training.

"I can do it, Dad," Hope said, stubborn and confident as she lifted her bow and put an arrow to the wire, testing it in a slow draw.

Only five and already so grown up. Nathan didn't know where she got it from. Whether it was already a part of her, as innate as breathing, or if she was mimicking his own assuredness, or the insouciant mastery of his domain that Wade carried around with him like a cloak. Nathan knelt beside her and put a hand on her shoulder, gripping gently, "I know you can."

She put the arrow in her quiver and turned, pinning him with solemn green eyes, "... it doesn't seem like it."

That was like a shot to the heart. Surely she knew that he was proud of her? That he believed in her abilities even when he worried that the slightest wrong move could kill her ... and Wade was so callous with his own safety, so oblivious to mere mortal restrictions that Nathan sometimes lived half in fear that Hope would pick up the same casual disregard for her own safety. "Doesn't it?" he asked quietly.

Hope looked down, fiddling with the wire in her bow, "You never want me to practice this."

Nathan thought he probably looked as confused as he felt, "I do ... you practice all the time with targets."

"But not for real!"

"I just ... I worry," Nathan admitted, gripping both of her shoulders gently in broad hands, "that you'll get hurt."

"If you fall down, you're supposed to get back up again."

"What if you can't get up again? Ever?"

Hope's nose wrinkled up in thought, "Then you could carry me."

Nathan's lips twitched up a small smile, "You wouldn't get tired of that after a while?"

"If _you_ got tired ... then Papa could carry me."

"I don't think Wade would have that much patience."

"I guess not. Sometimes he has to fight for us and then he can't carry me."

"That's true. Sometimes he does."

"I wanna fight too," Hope said firmly, chin lifting, "so I can protect you."

Nathan's eyes softened, "I don't need protecting."

Hope gave him a dubious look, as if the mountain of metal and muscle that was Nathan Summers was a delicate and fragile edifice, needing her budding skills with a bow and arrow to defend it, "Papa protects us ... when Papa's not there, _I_ want to protect us." 

"Hope ... it's our job to protect you. It's not your job to protect us," Nathan said firmly, "Your only job is to be our little girl."

Hope fell silent and then she whispered, "Papa's sending us away."

So now they came to the heart of the matter. Nathan usually respected her boundaries, her desire to have some space and independence to do things herself, even if he always kept her in view. Now he gave that up entirely and wrapped her in his arms, hugging her tightly. Hope threw her arms around his neck, clinging just as tight, shaking as she buried her face in his shoulder. "I know," he said simply.

"We could stay!" Hope lifted her head and fixed Nathan with wet, pleading eyes, "We don't have to go. We don't have to leave Papa behind." 

His heart constricted at her tears, a tight painful little pulsing ache, because what Hope wanted, Nathan wanted as well. In some small way he was grateful that Wade had chosen to be the strong one, had chosen to force them to go, because Nathan knew he would have kept putting off the day until long after Hope was grown. Nathan lifted a hand to stroke her hair, calluses catching on the fine red strands. 

"Hope ... we have always left Wade behind. Every time we jumped, every time we ran away ... we left him behind. This time we won't be running away anymore. This jump will be the last jump. After that, we will never leave Wade behind again." 

"Then why can't we just stop running here? Why do we have to leave?"

"Because this place isn't our home. Our home is in the past and Wade and I have always known I would have to take you back there."

"It's not my home! I've never lived there!" Hope protested, "This is my home! With you and Papa!"

"It'll become your home, Hope. I promise that you will love it."

"I'll never love a world that took my Papa from me," Hope swore, bright and fierce, "Never!"

In that moment, Nathan knew they had to leave. Now she might grow older and forget, especially with a new Wade to latch on to, but wait too much longer and the memory of separation might be a wound that never properly healed. He had accepted it before, but now he knew that Wade was right. She had to love the old world, or she'd never have reason to defend it, and every reason to watch it burn.

Nathan took a deep breath, shedding his own regrets, and spoke, "Hope, _I'm_ the one who's taking you away. I have _always_ taken you away."

Hope shook her head, "No, you didn't!"

"When you were just a baby, I took you from Wade and I didn't look back. I left him behind, alone."

She opened her mouth to say something, but he continued before she had the opportunity. "When I jumped to him again, the world was falling apart. With every jump, the world had fallen farther, until only Apocalypse ruled. To regain the old world, we have to return to before it was lost. Wade loves us, but he wants the old world back and he wants _us_ to have the old world back."

The stubborn tilt to her chin softened as Hope worried her bottom lip, though she remained stubbornly silent. "Everything we've told you about the old world ... Those aren't just stories, Hope. Those things were as real as the lizard you caught the day before yesterday or the dinner you had last night." 

Watching her begin to waver, Nathan didn't hold back. He drew on details from all the stories he had ever told, all the things that Wade brought up about what a little girl should get to have if she wanted them, "Balloons and birthday cakes, crystal wands and sparkly red shoes, star ships and Hawkeyes ... those are all _real_ ... and you can never see them unless we go home." 

Hope sniffed, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand, "There's really a Serenity ship? Did you fly it?"

"Serenity is a ship from a story made of moving pictures, so it didn't actually fly," Nathan corrected gently as he pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and held it up to her nose, "Blow." Hope obligingly blew hard in an attempt at a honk, but only got a hunf instead. " ... but I have flown other space ships that were real."

"Can I fly a ship?" 

"You're a Summers, of course you can fly," Nathan smiled as he folded the handkerchief over and wiped her face with the dry side. "My father has a plane. He might let you fly it if you ask nicely."

Hope snuffled, letting him fuss with the handkerchief as she leaned on his shoulder, brow furrowed in thought. "Is Hawkeye real? Papa didn't just make it up?"

"All the Hawkeyes are real." This at least, was easy to confirm. "We would come back when there was only one. Kate would just be starting her apprenticeship with Hawkeye and Cooper would be about your age right now ... you probably shoot better than he does."

Hope grinned at the idea that she would be better than _Kid Hawekeye_. 

"Lady Laura would have just had Lila and baby Nathaniel won't be around for a while," Nathan paused and then added thoughtfully, "That's something we can change when we go back. They don't have to die ... because we can help Deadpool save them."

Hope's brow furrowed, "But then Deadpool won't be a Hawkeye. He'll be all alone." Nathan hadn't thought she was as fond of Deadpool the character as that. Most of her interest had seemed to center on the Hawkeye children.

"Papa will never be alone if we're there with him," Nathan said gently, smiling.

"Dad! I wasn't talking about Papa," Hope said crossly, "I was talking about ... _Deadpool_ ... " she trailed off as she blinked and then scrunched her nose in bafflement at her father's amusement, "Papa is the General. Everyone we've ever met says so."

"Your Papa _is_ Deadpool, even if he hasn't called himself that since he first fought Apocalypse."

"Dad ... you're not secretly a Hawkeye, are you?" Hope said doubtfully. 

Still amused, Nathan snorted, "In your Papa's stories, I'm Cable."

Hope's brow furrowed again as she thought and then her eyes widened, "Dad! You made an island that floated in the sky! And ruled the world! Better than Apocalypse!"

Nathan laughed.

"And then you dropped the _island_!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"Wade made me drop it."

"And then you lost the island to run away with ... the baby ... " Hope trailed off before she blurted, "That's me!"

"That was you," Nathan confirmed with a smile. 

"And then Deadpool was sad," Hope continued, " _Papa_ was sad ... because we were gone."

"He was, he missed us more than anything. He would have done anything to keep us there, but he let us go to keep you safe. Then he waited a long, long time to see us again."

Hope scrunched up her nose in heavy thought, leaning against Nathan, who ran a hand through her hair, stroking gently. His baby girl had grown up so quickly. She used to be so small she fit into his hands and now ... and now she was old enough to draw a bow and argue about her destiny.

"We have to save Lady Laura and baby Nathanial," Hope said abruptly, looking up at Nathan with solemn eyes, "and keep Papa from being lonely."

"Yes, we do," he agreed and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"And so I can fly a ship in space."

"As soon as you're tall enough to reach the pedals," he smiled against her hair.

"I'm gonna miss this Papa," she whispered, hiding her face in his neck.

Nathan cupped the back of her neck, cradling her close, "I know. I will too."

Wade's hunting cry, a wolf singing its pack to the kill, shattered their moment. They froze, then whipped their heads up as a black mass the size as a small house slammed into the clearing with the thundering crash of breaking tree limbs and clattering chitin armor. The detritus of shattered branches and torn leaves fell all around them, thrust aside by the dome of Nathan's instinctive shielding, which reached out and slapped the black mass aside with a stunning blow. 

It screamed, a sound of rage that reached a register that only dogs -- and Wade -- could hear. Hope screamed in response and Nathan hugged her to him as he stood, power welling up around him like blue fire, ready to crush the monstrosity to paste in an instant.

The creature writhed, rolling its bulk over with a heave, righting itself on eight jointed legs thicker around than Nathan's chest. It rose to its pedal tips, as tall as a small tree, a terrible tower of black fur and glossed chitin, the pincers in front of its maw snapping in reflexive interest as eight reflective eyes fixed on Nathan and Hope with flat predator avarice. Nathan distantly wondered how, in the name of all that was holy, Wade always managed to find giant fucking spiders. It didn't matter what he claimed, they did not taste like crab. "Maybe I won't miss him."

Hope's giggle was high pitched with relief and adrenaline and they shared a brief look of mutual agreement before Nathan set her on the ground, the flame of his power bright in the air.

Wade dropped from the same hole as the spider, landing on its back with a blow that drove it to the ground and knocked its eight legs out from under it, singing out a merry, "Shoot for the eyes!" 

Hope yelped and jumped back as Wade leapt from the spider's back in a nimble flip over its head, landing in a crouch on the ground. Wade thrust his hands into the air, two thumbs up, "C'mon, baby girl, shoot!" It was only after he spoke that Nathan realized Wade had lined the spider up for a perfect head shot.

The spider staggered to its pedals, raising above Wade, who completely ignored it as he focused on Hope. Hope lunged for her dropped bow and fumbled it as she tried to knock an arrow to the string. Nathan reached out to help her, but Wade tutted, "Ah, ah, ah, no helping, Nate!" as he pirouetted to the side to avoid the spider's lunge and kicked it in the side of the head with a blow that dented chitin and made it stagger sideways. "This is a final exam! No telekinetic cheating allowed! Or telepathy! Or leaning over to ask your Dad for the answers! I'd have to fail you for such skulduggery and make you retake the class all over again!"

"Wade!" Nathan snapped, annoyed.

"It's not a real test unless it's combat conditions!"

"These aren't real combat conditions!"

"Controlled combat conditions!"

"There is no such thing as controlled combat conditions!"

"There is when it's a dungeon boss battle! Cue the music!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan saw Hope settle as they bickered. Her hands were steady when she lifted the bow, knocking the arrow back as she took aim and let go. The arrow went through the spider's left most eye.

"That's my girl!" Wade caroled in triumph as the spider screamed and reared, stamping down where Wade used to be. Wade was already air born, vaulting over its back as he would a table, making it turn to present its undamaged side to Hope. "Shoot it some more! Its got seven more eyes!"

Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.


	3. Message in a Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan carries a message between the Wades.

Nathan found Wade staring into the fire, rolling a thin metal cylinder the size of a pen over his knuckles, a twirling arc that reflected the fire light in dim flashes. Hope was asleep beside him, curled up beside his thigh. As bed time had neared, she hadn't been willing to let Wade out of her sight, so it had fallen to Nathan to take the evening's perimeter patrol. 

"All clear," Nathan said quietly as he secured his rifle and propped it beside Wade's combat harness, casting a sound buffering net over Hope before he sat down beside Wade.

Wade nodded and leaned against him, laying his head on Nathan's broad shoulder as he clenched the hand that held the cylinder into a fist. Nathan covered it with his own larger hand, cupping the back of Wade's, enjoying the visual contrast of striated silver and dappled skin as he traced the inner wrist with a metal thumb. 

"I don't feel human anymore." The words dropped into the quiet like dark stones, heavy enough to crush Nathan's heart. 

"You still look like one," Nathan said finally, lifting his arm and wrapping it around Wade's shoulders, pulling him close to his side in a fierce hug, "and you still feel like one." 

"I feel ... I feel like a toy ... that someone wound up and forgot to turn off," Wade turned under his arm, pressed his face into Nathan's chest as he wrapped his arms around his waist. It didn't hide the tremor that vibrated through his voice, "I'm just so _tired_." 

"Then rest," Nathan murmured against his skin and knew it wouldn't be enough, that there was _nothing_ that would ever be enough, that there was no cure for forever. 

"Yeah. When you're gone ... I'm going to sleep for a year, okay? Just lay down and ... and ... and _nap_. It will be some champion napping, the cats of the world are gonna be so jealous. You'll see ... except you won't see ... no! It will be so _epic_ that the power of the nap will travel _back in time_." 

Nathan stroked a hand down Wade's back and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, letting the words wash over him and trying not to imagine what Wade might do to find rest, the ways he would hurt himself trying to die.

Wade lifted his head from Nathan's chest, tipping it back to pin him with pale, pleading eyes, "Can I sleep, Nate? Can I?" 

"Sleep as long as you like. There's nothing you need to do," Nathan spoke around the knot that formed in his throat at the wistful ache in Wade's voice.

The gratefulness that filled Wade's eyes was more painful than his grief. There was nothing for Wade to be grateful for. He unwrapped an arm from around Wade only so he could cup his cheek and press a kiss to his forehead, a soft benediction, "You don't need to wait for us anymore. We'll be waiting for _you_ when you sleep for real. Your girl will take good care of us. It's peaceful there, remember?" 

"Yeah," Wade's voice cracked, "I remember."

Wade fell silent, clinging tight enough to bruise, and Nathan held him tightly in return, trying to press this embrace into a memory so strong that it wouldn't fade, no matter how long it took Wade to join him.

It was a long, long time before Wade spoke again. "There's something I need you to do."

"Anything," Nathan said immediately.

"When you go back," Wade pulled back only enough to hold the cylinder aloft, "give this to me."

Nathan plucked the cylinder from his hand, rolling it between his fingers. Along its silver side were marks indicating controls and Nathan could guess that the one closest to the top was probably the on button. "What is it?"

"A message from Princess Leia," Wade said, lips quirking up in a wry smile. That was both evasive and curious. Nathan ran his thumb over the markings, the temptation to pry right at his finger tips. "To think, I had almost forgotten how nosy you are." 

Nathan looked up guiltily from where he had been worrying the 'on' marking and caught Wade's grin. "Can I listen to it?"

"Yes," Wade caught his wrist before he could press down, "but only after he does." Nathan sighed. "Don't pout. I know how you are, Nate ... if you think it would be better if he didn't know, you wouldn't tell him."

"I wouldn't -- " he winced as Wade lifted a brow " -- I _have_ done that, but I wouldn't do it now."

"Maybe you wouldn't," Wade relented, the hand around his wrist stroking down his arm, "but this needs to come from me instead of through you. So promise me ... "

Nathan could understand and accept that logic, but it didn't mean he liked it. He tucked the cylinder away, "I promise."

 

* * *

 

"Do you want to remember?" Nathan asked, leaning against the cheap counter top of Wade's apartment kitchen, watching Wade as he inspected the bacon that was sizzling merrily in the oven. The warm smell was already making his stomach growl and it would soon rouse Hope, who was still curled up asleep in the bedroom, tucked beneath a loud pink blanket covered in pastel ponies. 

"Remember what?" 

The pitcher of pancake batter filled Nathan with a pleasant anticipation, shaded with a warm feeling of contentment. It was not that there had been no pancakes in the future, but they had been few and far between, their creation heavily reliant on whether or not Wade was in possession of flour and sweetener. A present filled with plenty had its advantages. "Future you. I have some of him, memories that he shared with me."

"Why would I want to remember being endless?" Wade turned to look at him, smiling ... but his eyes were serious.

"If you know the future, maybe you could change it."

"That's your shtick, Nate, mine is to follow your lead," Wade grinned, sly, "Guess that means you'll have to stick around if you want to change the future, huh?"

"You don't have to find ways to trick me into staying, Wade," Nathan shook his head, smiling fondly, "because I _am_ staying. We're both staying. I couldn't pry Hope from this apartment without you if I tried." 

Wade nodded sagely, "The sexy wiles of indoor plumbing never fail to seduce the unwary."

"Please. Your indoor plumbing is an offense against god and man. If that was the only thing to recommend this place, we would already be gone."

"Hey! It's not like I was expecting delicate female company!" Wade protested.

"We come from an apocalyptic future where the bush is the height of toiletry and I would still rather piss off the balcony than enter the house of horrors you call a bathroom."

"Ugh," Wade made a face at him, "I'm not cleaning it! It came to me that way and I'm returning it that way! This is a protest for renter screening." Never mind that no one would rent to Wade if they were actually screening their renters. 

"You could always move," Nathan said mildly and then grinned, "We _should_ move, actually. This is hardly the neighborhood we want Hope to grow up in."

"Don't let the gunshots scare you away. Ms. Ricola is just upset that you peed on her petunias."

Nathan ignored the debacle of the previous evening. "The quality of the school system is also lacking. I would prefer she not struggle more than necessary when integrating into this time period."

"I swear, I leave you unsupervised for five years and you turn into some kind of PTA monster. Would you like a mini van to go with your future yoga pants?" Wade's eyes tracked down the line of Nathan's body and lingered on his legs. "Mmmm, yoga pants."

While Wade was distracted by his legs, Nathan leaned forward and stuck his finger in the pancake batter and scooped some out, only dripping a little bit of batter on the counter on the way to his mouth. It was pleasantly fizzy with yeast. Wade yelped a protest at Nathan's theft and swatted his hand with the batter spoon, leaving a splash of batter across the back of his hand and along his arm. Nathan just grinned and licked it off. "You would look good in yoga pants. Or no pants at all."

"Young ears! And eyes!"

"She's still asleep," Nathan said placidly. When Wade looked incredulously at the open bedroom door and the sleeping Hope that was clearly visible from where they were standing, he added, "and she can't hear us anyway. I have a sound buffer over her."

"That's a clever trick."

"More tiring now that it was," Nathan admitted, "the population density is high here."

"We don't exactly have a Pacific island anymore," Wade said coolly and Nathan winced at the reminder of one of his biggest failures. Their last big fight before Nathan had left had been over Providence. He had run with Hope because he had to, but it hadn't hurt to be able to run from _that_ either. He should have remembered that running away solved nothing at all. 

"I guess we could get a place in the country. Maybe a farm? Or maybe someplace up in the mountains? Like that place you had in the Alps?" Nathan blinked out of his unhappy thoughts as Wade kept talking. If Wade was still upset with him, it didn't seem to matter, because he was already thinking of options to get Nathan away from the press of far too many minds.

He stepped forward and threw his arms around Wade's shoulders, pulling him close in a hug as he muttered against his ear, "I love you."

Wade's ramble ground to a halt and he slapped lightly at the arms around his shoulders, "Well, I guess I love you too, ya big dumb putz."

"I know you do," Nathan huffed a soft laugh against against Wade's ear, pleased when the smaller man shivered, "and I definitely don't deserve you."

Wade squirmed, "Aww, c'mon. Nate!"

"I never deserved you," he whispered against Wade's throat, "why do you even put up with -- " Wade clocked him upside the head with a spoonful of batter, "Ow!" It wasn't more than a sting, but it was the protest that counted. Batter dripped onto his ear, tickling.

"Shut up." Wade growled, "I love you. It happens. It's like ... like ... I don't know! Hives, or something."

Nathan laughed. 

"You gave me your big techno organic cooties. This is what happens without the shot!" 

Nathan reached around him to grab the kitchen towel, swiping haphazardly at the batter that had assaulted his person.

"Everyone pops out islands and abducts babies and spontaneously suffers from _feelings_!" Wade ranted without pause, splashing the spoon pointedly into the pitcher and stirring viciously.

"Do you think we could also have eggs?" Nathan asked, bending over enough to hook his chin over Wade's shoulder.

Wade's train of words promptly derailed as he stabbed a finger in the direction of a pile of potatoes, "I was thinking hash browns. With bell peppers. Kids need green things, right?"

"They do," Nathan agreed easily, "How about both? We all burn through a lot of food."

"Yessssssss ... more food is good food," Wade contemplated his counter tops, upon which was spread the detritus of the previous night's impromptu trip to the grocery store. He elbowed Nathan not so gently in the side, "Don't just stand there being decorative and blanket like. Help me out. Cut those potatoes."

Nathan grunted in protest as he reluctantly unwound himself from Wade and moved farther along the counter to sort out the potatoes. When he turned on the faucet to get water to rinse them, it spewed yellow sludge. Leaving it on to clear the pipes, Nathan glanced back at Wade, reminded by the indoor plumbing what he had wanted to talk about before Wade had used it derail the discussion, "I brought something back for you." 

It had been burning a hole in his pocket ever since it had first come into his possession, taunting him with things he wasn't yet allowed to know.

Wade instantly perked up, a hound catching the scent, "You brought me presents?"

"I suppose it depends on your definition of present," Nathan shook his head as he pulled the silver cylinder out and offered it to Wade.

Wade accepted it with bright interest, turning the cylinder over in his hands, "What is it? Some kind of fancy death ray gun?"

Nathan was _still_ dying of curiosity to know what was on it, but he couldn't let this opportunity pass. "It's Princess Leia."

"So it's the tiniest light saber ever invented?" Wade squinted, "I guess we could use it to cut the potatoes, though it seems like a hell of a lot of overkill. Who am I kidding? There is no such thing as overkill, only just enough kill. We will kill those potatoes so hard -- " 

Nathan grinned, "No, it's a message. From you, to you."

Wade froze, staring at the cylinder like it had transformed into a live grenade, before he looked up, "That's ... you heard it, right? What's it say?"

Nathan cupped his hands around Wade's, catching his thumbs in a brief and impromptu thumb war. "I don't know. It was for you," catching the skeptical look on his face, Nathan huffed, "I promised I wouldn't listen to it before you did."

Wade grinned abruptly, "Oh, Nate, you're just dying to know what's on this, huh?" 

"Yes!"

"Guess I'll have to listen to it, then," Wade was beaming now, pale eyes sparking with a mischief that made Nathan groan, since he could already guess what Wade was up to. "Later, of course. These pancakes won't griddle themselves, yanno."

"Wade!"

 

* * *

 

Help me, Wade Wilson, you're my only hope.

There are many things I could tell you about the future. 

Things I have never told Nate because he has never needed to know them ... because he already has so much on his shoulders and despite how strong and handsome those shoulders, I have never wanted to make them bow beneath the strain. 

There are many things that you might want to know ... but there is only **ONE** thing you **need** to know:

Evan is coming. 

If you haven't already met him ... you'll know him when you meet him. The moment you see him, you will **know**. 

I do not regret sparing his life. I will never, ever regret sparing his life. I have never regretting sparing any child's life. No matter what their future deeds, no matter what came after, I have **never** regretted that.

In this life, there might be much to regret ... but I have only the one regret.

I regret letting the X-men take Evan. For letting them convince me that **I** shouldn't. For letting them convince me that they knew better. That I was incapable of loving him or raising him. That I was incompetent. 

But you're good at this. You're an expert. Don't let **anyone** ever tell you otherwise.

You will raise more children than they will ever know. Many of them yours and Nate's. The facade virus has consequences more lasting than mere bodysliding. We carry Nate's genetic blueprint next to our own, imprinted onto everything that matters. Nate is in our heart, in our blood, in our bones, and in our seed. All of our children, all of the children we will ever sire ... are also Nate's children. 

I don't regret raising any of my children, no matter what pain might have come later. They knew that they were loved. Always. No matter what. That there was nothing they could do that would make me stop loving them, nothing they broke that could not be repaired, no ill done that could not be resolved. If they wandered, if they went astray ... they always came home again.

I only regret **not** raising them.

The ones that were taken from us, by those who thought they knew better. That **we** thought knew better ... because we didn't believe in ourself. They were raised by people who had a **use** for them, rather than out of love. 

Evan ... 

Evan will need you. Like Hope needs you.

And Nate will be there to help you. 

I do not regret sending Nate and Hope home to you. I do not regret that I will never see them again, save in memory. How can I regret sending them to someone who I know will love them as much as I do, who I know will **need** them?

Don't worry about him leaving again, about losing him to time travel ... because Nate can never time travel again. 

**No one** can time travel anymore.

I've made sure of it. 

Now that they're safe with you, I've shattered this future so completely that time travel should be impossible until long after Nate is dead. 

There will be no more enemies to follow after them. Bishop won't escape **me**. I've left him no where to run. 

If your quarry goes to ground ... give them no ground to go to. 

I've been waiting for this moment for a thousand years. 

They have no idea just how patient we can be. They don't know the lengths we're willing to go. They don't understand that between Nate and I, **I'm** the ruthless one. 

I've burnt this world to ashes. 

I've made it a funeral pyre worthy of a Phoenix.

I've erased us. 

Don't be sad. 

Be happy.

The future can only be brighter from here.

 

* * *

 

_"Can I sleep, Nate? Can I?"_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The _Star Wars_ reference is obvious. The _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ one is less so.
> 
> This is the chapter formerly known as _Codicil: Evan_ , and it originally included only future Wade's message to himself. It was going to be the 5th chapter of _Honeysuckle_.


	4. Fathers and Sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate has a series of awkward conversations that he navigates awkwardly and Wade usurps Psylocke's rightful place in the story.

A school like the Xavier Institute didn't run without paperwork, even if most of it was digitized. Scott Summers scheduled at least two hours out of his day to work through it, making sure everything was in its proper place. Transfer requests, school records, test filing, medical papers, insurance forms, bills and taxes all had to be done within a reasonable time frame and _someone_ had to do it. To a certain extent, Scott found it soothing. The world wasn't at risk if the paperwork didn't get done, but everyone's life went just a little more smoothly. In a life filled with drama and high stakes, Scott appreciated the quiet demands of mere paperwork. It was peaceful, and quiet, and ordered ... and he usually threatened interlopers with having to help him (which usually made them leave him alone).

He didn't look up when the door opened, choosing to finish his thought before having to deal with whoever might be at the door and whatever disruption they would bring to his peaceful little island.

The door clicked shut and the steady rumble of Nathan's voice broke the silence, "Hello, Father." 

Scott's head jerked upright and he stood, shoving away from the desk, "Nathan!" 

Nathan, who wasn't supposed to be here ... who was supposed to be safe and _gone_ with the baby. Nathan, who was here and no one had told him? "You look well." 

Scott might look well, casual in jeans and a zig zag sweater to ward off the chill of the office ... but Nathan looked like he was about to step onto a battle field, impervious in blue and silver. The rippling scale effect of some sort of body armor, thin and blue and high-necked, served as a shirt. It looked flexible enough to serve as a bodysuit, but gray cargo pants obscured it below the waist. Silver gauntlets covered his arms from wrist to elbow. A pair of guns were strapped to his thighs and the hilts of knives peeked from the top of his dark boots.

Scott stepped from behind the desk to greet him, hand outstretched, but Nathan surprised him by stepping forward and hugging him, crushing him to his chest instead of merely accepting a handshake. Surprised, it took Scott a moment to respond, but when he did he hugged his son back just as fiercely. There were moments that Scott mourned what he had lost, the opportunity to be a _father_ instead of just an _ally_ , straining for a connection with a man who had only briefly been his child.

He pulled back, "Where's the baby?"

"What's the last thing you said to me?" Nathan responded instead and Scott felt the feather light touch of telepathy. _Felt_ because Nathan wanted him to know he was there, his mental touch light and superficial, verifying rather than intruding. If Nathan had felt like breaking in, not even Emma's shielding would be a defense. 

"Save it for a better time. This isn't goodbye."

Tension faded from Nathan's shoulders as he nodded, "I've come as soon as I could."

"Is the baby -- ?"

Nathan stepped back and shook his head, "The baby's safe. Her name's Hope now." 

"Hope," Scott repeated the name thoughtfully. It wasn't what he would have chosen, if only because he already knew someone named Hope, but it was still a good name. "Hope's a good name for a little girl." The small pleased smile that flashed across Nathan's face made Scott glad he had said it. "How long have you been back?"

"Two months."

"Emma didn't see you on Cerebro," Scott frowned, turning the time line over in his mind, "and I sent X-Force -- "

"We met X-Force," Nathan interrupted, tone carefully neutral. "Part of the reason I didn't come to see you until now was to avoid that paradox. We arrived here before we left, so it was better to keep our heads down and let events play out." He shrugged, more a twitch of broad shoulders than a full shrug, "As for Cerebro ... my plot device is stronger than your plot device."

Scott was momentarily thrown by Nathan's final statement, "What?"

"We have been hiding from far more sophisticated seekers than Cerebro. To hide ourselves from the technology of this time is child's play."

Now Nathan was just being Nathan, cryptic and smug. Scott shook his head, "Do you need a place to stay? I have -- " It was strangely hard to say that he already had a room prepared for the baby -- for _Hope_ \-- and for Nathan as well if he wanted to stay. "You know that you and Hope are welcome here." 

"Thank you," Nathan smiled, a warm, bright smile that made the skin around his eyes crinkle, "I appreciate the offer, but we already have a place to stay." He must have caught Scott's disappointment because he added lightly, "Some where quieter than here."

Scott made an exaggerated face of understanding considering the number of teenagers running around the school grounds, "It might not seem like it, but we do have soundproofing."

"No soundproofing can quiet the press of minds. This school is too close to the city for my comfort," Nathan admitted as he shook his head, "and it wouldn't be wise for Hope to be around this many mutants." 

Nathan held up a hand to stop whatever Scott might have said to that, "Hope copies the powers of other mutants and she currently has limited control. I hesitate to put her too close to too many powers at once. It's dangerous to her and her surroundings."

"Is that why you didn't bring her here?"

"It played heavily into my decision to leave her with Wade on the lawn."

The problem was that Scott knew only one person named 'Wade' that Nathan would trust, so he felt perfectly justified jumping to the obvious conclusions, "You left her with ... Nathan! You can't leave a baby with Deadpool!" 

"She's not a baby anymore, she's five."

It had only been two months since Nathan had left with Hope and already she was five. Five! Scott hated time travel, he really and truly hated how it warped everything it touched. "You can't leave a five year old with Deadpool either!"

"I have _always_ been able to leave her with him," Nathan said firmly, "Wade is my _husband_ , and Hope's _father_ , just as much as I'm her father."

"He's a mentally ill assassin routinely distracted by shiny objects ... he's not _fit_ to watch a child."

"In the last five years, Wade has proven himself to be more than capable when it comes to supervising Hope." 

Scott paused, turning over this latest piece of information, "You took him with you."

"I -- " Nathan sighed, pained, "I went ahead and he went the long way." It took a moment for the horrified realization of what it meant to travel the long way penetrated. "That is part of why it took me so long to come see you. Coming back to this time? I was widowed and remarried in a day. Hope was orphaned and adopted in the same day. We all needed time to adjust to the change before ... " Nathan paused, briefly closing his eyes, before he spoke again, "Wade's loyalty and abilities are not in question. You don't have to like him or trust him, but you need to accept the fact that _I_ love and trust him and that _Hope_ loves and trusts him ... and it's _our_ judgment that matters."

Scott couldn't say that he approved of Deadpool any more now than he ever had, "Nathan ... " 

"They're not exactly unsupervised. I can hear Hope if she's in distress ... and I can see them through your window."

Scott whirled around and slapped his hands down on the window sill as he leaned forward, staring out the window. There were two people on the far side of the front lawn. A taller figure, who was juggling something that glinted in the sunlight, and a shorter figure only a few feet away, crouched to look at something in the grass. "Are those _knives_?"

"Possibly," Nathan was far too calm about the whole situation.

Scott turned to look at him in disbelief.

"You shoot concussive blasts from your eyes and I can tear something apart with a thought ... and you're worried about _knives_?"

Put in that context, his reflexive concern might be a little unfounded, but it was the principle of the thing. "I'm more concerned that someone might provoke him and then Hope will get caught up in the scuffle."

"That would be ... _unwise_ ," Nathan's tone was deceptively light for the way his eyes narrowed, "Let's call this a _test_. If your students and staff can't handle a parent and child peacefully occupying themselves while the other parent isn't present ... then you have much bigger problems here than _Deadpool_. You already have bigger problems."

Scott sighed, already bracing himself for the news that the end of the world was imminent and he was going to have to round up the team. The figure that was Wade abruptly pocketed his shiny objects as the smaller figure of Hope gestured excitedly at something in the grass. He crouched down beside her, getting down on his hands and knees with her to inspect whatever it was they were looking at. Hope was _five_. Five and excited about the world, five and enthralled with nature ... she was _five_ and she wasn't going to fit in the crib. She had barely been gone and she was already _so grown up_. "I'll rally the troops. How long do we have?"

Nathan paused and surprised Scott by coming to stand at the window with him, sounding rueful, "Not that kind of problem. There's nothing that needs immediate saving."

"So you didn't return from a horrible future filled with ruined cities and ruled over by the iron fist of Apocalypse?"

Nathan turned his head to look at him and Scott lifted his eyebrows expectantly in return. "Alright, all that is true ... but it's not _imminent_. We have plenty of time to find a different path."

"I currently have a student here that makes me think otherwise."

"By 'student', you mean the clone of En Sabah Nur."

Scott drew a deep, slow breath, "So you already know." Some part of him had thought to keep Evan a secret, safe and hidden from Nathan's more murderous impulses where Apocalypse was concerned. Then he'd never have to deal with standing between his own son and the death of a child.

"I had already returned when Warren involved Wade in his search."

On some level, Scott should have known. Ever since they had fallen into each other's orbit, Deadpool had been Nathan's cat's paw, sinking his claws into the targets Nathan chose for him. "You sent him after Evan."

"No, I just supported his decision ... whatever that decision would turn out to be," Nathan said with such calm while Scott's thoughts were racing round and round, "because I knew it would be the right decision." 

"He didn't kill him."

Nathan's voice is soft, so soft it sounded like hurt, "Did you think that's what I would want?"

"Horrible futures ruled by Apocalypse, remember?" Scott said, sudden and sharp with the memory of Logan's bald statement of his original intent: that he would murder a child to prevent such futures. Scott didn't even know what had changed his mind, he could only be grateful that it _had_ been changed. "Horrible futures that you just got back from, that _X-Force_ just got back from."

"I ran with Hope because I couldn't countenance the murder of a child. What would make you think that I would support this? That I would send Wade to do it in my place? What kind of monster do you think I _am_?"

"I don't think you're a monster," Scott said, quiet and pained, "but you've fought him your whole life. This is, has always been, your mission." A whole life time in the future and only the _mission_ had brought his son back to the century of his birth.

"Not anymore," Nathan said, pressing his palm against the window, "My priorities have changed." There was no way for Wade to have seen the motion, but his head went up and swiveled towards them, staring briefly in their direction before his attention shifted back to Hope. "I'm not here to hurt Evan. I'm here to adopt him."

 

* * *

 

Evan hated living at the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. 

His fantasies about what other children would be like -- that they would _like_ him and enjoy his company -- had proven to be just that: fantasy. It wasn't just the differences between him and the other students, though those seemed insurmountable. 

He was younger than most of the students. He had grown up in a ship, inside a mere handful of connected rooms, surrounded by distant adults, his retainers and servants and tutors. Here, the children had _families_ and _friends_ and had spent their time at 'public' school. In the ship, his life was quiet and orderly and structured around his lessons, about learning everything that En Sabah Nur had known, so he could follow properly in his footsteps and be worthy of the blood that flowed in his veins. At the school, it was bright and loud and chaotic and there was always so much going on, so much to keep up with ... and if he didn't keep up ... then he couldn't be 'cool' and he didn't fit. 

Evan might have been able to tell himself that he just needed to be patient, that he couldn't learn in a week what everyone had known all their lives ... if he wasn't at a school for mutant children. 

He thought he could have been happier at a normal human school, where he'd _just_ be a mutant, and the only thing that would matter would be that he looked different ... instead of being here, still looking different, and thought to be a genocidal murderer.

He knew that was what they thought of him, because they _told_ him so. They didn't want to study with him because he would become a murderer. They didn't want to be his friend because one day he would stab them in the back on the way to world domination. 

That was all Evan was to them: A murderer in waiting. A villain on the cusp of committing unspeakable atrocities. Their enemy, that someone was too kind to kill. 

_"Who am I? Who are **you**!?" the intruder pointed at him dramatically, "This here is a crazy future star ship that I am infiltrating like the debonair double agent that I am. Cue the theme music!" he strange fellow in red and black started humming an unfamiliar tune loudly before he cut himself off, "But enough of that! What's a kid like you doing with this lot of nutters?" He slapped his hands to his cheeks and gasped, "They haven't kidnapped you and are holding you hostage so they can demand a ransom of five million dollars, have they?"_

_Evan blinked, confounded by this sudden deluge of words and concern._

His new teachers were only marginally better than his previous tutors ... except now Evan knew none of the answers and could not please them with the answers he did have. They were kind enough, but Evan had seen the same thing on all their faces: as if he were a dog they might have to put down and they didn't want to get attached or they might not be able to do it. He had never understood what he was seeing until X-Force had come to kill him ... because they had looked the same. 

_The bullet bounced off the edge of Wade's sword with a resounding ping. Evan hadn't even seen Wade move, but suddenly his arm was outstretched and a sword was in his hand. He swallowed and stepped behind Wade, reaching out to clutch the back of his combat harness._

_"Ah ah ah! Why is it whenever we're tying to have a civil conversation, someone always has to solve it with **violence**? Because let me tell you, I am an **expert** at violence. So if you try this shiiiiiii -- stuff! I said stuff! -- again and I will shoot you between the eyes and dance the macarena on your uneven corpse. I said stuff didn't I?"_

_"I know what shit is," Evan whispered against his back and Wade reached back with his free hand to pat him awkwardly on the hip, the only part he could actually reach._

_"Of course I did! This is family friendly discussion we're having!" Wade's voice dropped and took on a dark, unhappy note, "Isn't it, Logan."_

_"Stand down, Fantomex," the short man growled, "we can "talk". It's just about the only thing Wade is actually good at."_

_"Is this an insult fest now? Ooo ooo, I have a good one! Yo mama was so hairy -- "_

For Evan, the light had dawned as X-Force had fought over his right to _live_. Evan was _expendable_. Eventually, he would fail to please his tutors. Eventually, he would fail to prove that the copy was as good as the original, that he was not everything they hoped he would be, that he was not worthy to be the successor to Apocalypse ... and then he would be dead. His retainers would make a _new_ Evan and try again. Until Wade had broken into his rooms, Evan hadn't thought there was anything else he _could_ be. 

_"You ... um ... you should kneel," Evan commanded, mimicking his chamberlain's superior tone._

_"I'm too old to be kneeling, kiddo. It's a hinge joint, not a foot ... man wasn't meant to kneel unless it was for blow j -- whoops, cover your virgin ears!"_

_Hands clapped down over his ears and Evan slapped at red covered arms with his own hands. "I know what ... " he trailed off, because he didn't actually know now that he thought about it, "what's a blow thing?"_

_"I don't even know what to say and I always know what to say. How has this happened to me?" The man in red and black flopped over on the floor with such drama that Evan didn't know why he was complaining about kneeling when he was fine with lying on the floor and rolling around. "I'm too young and good looking and irresponsible to give someone The Talk! Where's Nate when I need him?" The intruder was a very strange man ... but Evan kind of liked him. He was funny._

The Xavier Institute was not the new path that Evan had hoped for when X-Force had delivered him there. 

They fed him and they housed him and all the time they waited for him to show his real colors and Evan hated it. He hated being stared at and talked about and he hated the noise and the chaos and how he was supposed to like it because it was supposed to mean that he belonged here when he _didn't_ and he hated the waiting, waiting, waiting that made him want to snap, to scream and destroy something just so they would get it over with already except he didn't want to die, he didn't!, it was why he had allowed X-Force to take him rather than fight, because he didn't want to die, not by _their_ hands and not be the hands of his retainers, he wanted to _live_ , he _did_ , he just ... he just ... 

... he just wanted Wade to come and get him.

_"Hey, Evan."_

_Evan started as Wade's large, gloved hand landed on his shoulder, gripping gently._

_"You can come stay with me, if you want," Wade's head tilted, but his offer sounded absurdly hopeful, like he **wanted** Evan to come stay with him, like he wanted Evan around._

_The touch had startled him, but now it felt solid, grounding, keeping him from floating away and being lost._

_"Until they figure out where I should go?" Evan asked, because he couldn't imagine anyone wanting to **keep** him when they knew who -- **what** \-- Evan was. _

_Except ... except Wade, who had never met him, who had nothing to do with his retainers, had stood between him and the people who had come to kill him, even when those people were Wade's friends. Wade, who had been nice to him for no reason at all._

_"Nuh-uh. I don't care what they decide," Wade shook his head, "You can stay with me forever."_

_"He's coming with us," Logan interjected sharply, before Evan could even say 'yes'._

_"But -- " Evan tried to interject, looking between them as Wade straightened, the hand on his shoulder still a solid, comforting weight._

_"It's not **your** decision, Shrimpy Mc Shish Ka **bub**."_

_"This is my op and it is my decision," the dismissal was cold and sharp, "So get your paws off the kid and get lost, because he ain't going anywhere with you."_

_Wade's chin lifted and his voice cooled, "If Evan wants to come with me, then he will. This **isn't** your op and you don't get to tell me what to do ... only my wife gets to do that."_

_"I will take him over your corpse, Wade," The slow eery sound of metal ejecting from flesh made Evan swallow, "and your **wife** ain't here to save your sorry skin." _

Evan held onto the slender thread of hope that Wade might still want him, even after ... even after what Logan had done. 

If Wade remembered. That was something everyone could agree on, when Evan made the mistake of asking about Wade here. Wade was crazy. Wade's memory was worthless. His promises were worthless. He wouldn't come to see Evan because he would never be coming for Evan. Wade wasn't even married! Everyone agreed on that too ... except for the expression on Miss Pryde's face when she said it, like his question was a horrible joke and she couldn't bear to tell him the punch line. (Evan's been the butt of enough jokes now to know what that looked like.) 

Evan wondered what it said about him that only a crazy person wanted him and Evan desperately wanted him to _still_ want him. 

He rubbed his eyes and sighed, lifting his gaze from his textbooks to the window, which looked out on the trees behind the mansion. He did like the view and getting to go outside, though he preferred to go outside when his roommate was inside. 

The knock on his door jolted him upright. His roommate didn't knock. "Come in!"

The head teacher, Mr. Summers, pushed the door open and stepped inside, glancing from Evan to his roommate's side of the room, which was empty of everything except perpetual clutter, "Oh, good, you're here." 

"Mr. Summers," Evan greeted, scrambling to his feet, "Quentin isn't here."

"I wasn't looking for him. I was looking for you," Mr. Summers said mildly, "There's someone I'd like you to meet." Mr. Summers cleared the doorway and another _huge_ man stepped inside. With his white hair and weathered skin, he made the head teacher seem young and small and Mr. Summers was not a small man. The new person wasn't the largest man that Evan had ever known, but he was large enough to be intimidating, especially with his weapons and his metal arm and his cold, hard eyes. Even the glowing eye managed to look cold, so very cold and hard and dead. "This is my son, Nathan Summers. You may have heard of him referred to as 'Cable'." Before Evan could think to ask, Mr. Summers raised a hand, "It's complicated. Don't worry about it."

"En Sabah Nur," when Cable said it, it was as cold as winter, an acknowledgment that was also a fact set into stone. Except Evan wasn't that person. He was never going to _be_ that person. En Sabah Nur was dead and Evan was the pale shadow that served as his replacement, the vessel of the remnants of his power. "You can call me Nathan. Or Nate, if you prefer."

_"En Sabah Nur? That's a mouthful! Who names a kid that?" Gloved red fingers picked up one of his fallen toy soldiers and set it gently back into place with the rest. "How about I just call you Evan? You can call me Wade. Deadpool is too much callsign when you just wanna chat, yanno?"_

Evan swallowed, took hold of his courage, and lifted his chin, "That's not my name. I'm Evan."

"Just Evan?"

Evan nodded hesitantly. He had no family name because he didn't have a family, but he preferred 'Evan' to ... to someone else's name. At least Wade had given him this one for his own. 

An eyebrow lifted above his glasses as Mr. Summers turned to stare at his son, clearly unimpressed, before his attention returned to Evan, "Nathan has offered to adopt you and become your permanent guardian."

The words did not compute. Evan dumbly shook his head in denial. Cable nodded in response. Despite being allowed to, Evan could hardly think of him as _Nate_. 

"In the short term," Mr. Summers continued, "You would stop living at the school and move in with Nathan and his family. I don't believe you will be attending school here at all, after that."

Cable responded to the unspoken question, "We don't live that close. Evan would receive tutoring until he could attend public school." He paused and directed his next words to Evan, "Unless you want to continue going to school here?"

"I -- it's alright," Evan muttered, even though it wasn't ... but he didn't think he wanted to leave with Cable, a cold, frightening man that he didn't know anything about. At least if he was here some of the time, Wade could still find him.

Mr. Summers glanced between the two of them and sighed. "How about I leave you two to get acquainted?" He looked to Evan, pinning him with his gaze even with the glasses that obscured his eyes, "If it doesn't work out ... you still have a place with us, Evan. Alright? You can always stay here if you need to."

When Evan hesitantly nodded, Mr. Summers clapped Cable on the shoulder, "And loosen up a bit, Nathan. He's a boy, not an impending battle. I'll be outside on the lawn if either of you need me." 

Then Mr. Summers left, shutting the door behind him, leaving Evan and Cable to stare at each other in silence. Evan wished Mr. Summers had stayed.

The seconds dragged by and Evan broke under the intent quiet, grabbing the first thoughts that came to mind and saying them, "You don't have to adopt me."

"I think that I do. You wouldn't be my first or only child. I have a daughter named Hope. She's five."

Evan couldn't imagine that. He squirmed, uncomfortable. "No, really. You don't have to. I already have -- someone already promised that they would come and get me. I don't ... I want to be here when they come."

"I guess I should have mentioned this sooner ... " for the first time, Cable's expression smoothed, the hardness in his cold blue eye softened and his lips quirked up in something approaching a smile. "I'm Wade's wife. He sent me to collect you."

All of Evan's thoughts scattered. It was inconceivable that anyone would claim to be Wade's wife when they _weren't_.

"But you're not a girl!" Evan blurted out and then slapped a hand over his mouth in mortification ... because it was obvious to a blind person that Nathan Summers was not a girl ... or a woman ... or remotely feminine in any way.

The amusement spread, a previously unbelievable amount of mischief sparked in Cable's blue eye, the other spitting literal yellow sparks, and the smile curled into a secretive little smirk. "It wouldn't be a good joke if I were."

"He calls you his wife as a joke?" Evan asked faintly, feeling lost and thoroughly confused.

"Wade's sense of humor leaves much to be desired," Cable's response was dry, but it didn't change the amusement creasing the corners of his eyes, "You'll have to get used to how terrible it is if you want to live with us."

Evan swallowed and what he blurted out had nothing to do with where he wanted to live, "They just ... they cut him up and left him there!"

The amusement, the softness, left Cable and what remained was not at all happy, "I know."

"They're not _really_ going to let you take me ... they'll ... they'll do it to you too," it ended on a whisper. Evan was a little frightened of the man and the way his dead eye burned brighter the angrier he became ... because what else was he except angry? (Evan was angry too, and afraid, and so deathly afraid of being angry.) That didn't mean he wanted to see him _hurt_. 

"They won't," Cable's confidence didn't make Evan feel any better and he must have realized it because he continued, "I'm an omega level telekinetic." 

Cable stepped forward and went down on one knee before him, putting their eyes close to the same level. He unclasped the gauntlet on his right wrist and held it between his hands. Before Evan's eyes, it disassembled, metal and cloth and clasps floating apart to hover in the air, traced in cold blue light. Then the pieces ... dissolved ... they just disintegrated, shredding apart into a muddy silver mist that hovered suspended in the air. 

Evan tentatively reached for the mist and Cable let him, simply watching as he touched a finger tip to the outer barrier. The mist felt gritty, like sand, and ... damp. It was a strange sensation.

Cable's hands parted and the mist fell to the floor like so much dirt, particulate sinking into the previously clean carpet. "What I've done to this I can do to the entire city of New York ... and every person living in it." It was a statement of fact, but without the malice that Evan imagined such a statement should contain. "There is no one is this building who can make me do anything I don't want to do and none of them can stop me. If I want you to come with me, you _will_ come with me."

"Then why haven't you just ... taken me?"

"Just because I _can_ do something doesn't mean I _should_ ," Cable said gently, "and just because I want something doesn't mean I should take it. What you want matters too. If you want to come and stay with Wade and Hope and I and become part of our family, then I will make it happen. If you want to stay here ... well ... " he trailed off and then abruptly admitted, "Wade might kidnap you."

Evan blinked.

"I convinced him to wait until I could come and get you ... but he's very determined," Cable looked sheepish, as though he had some sort of control over Wade and yet was failing to exert any control at all. "He'll kidnap you if you're not comfortable coming with me."

It was dumb, so very dumb that Cable, who could dissolve something just by looking at it, would be flummoxed by Wade, but it made Evan smile anyway, "I want to go with you."

Cable -- no, _Nate_ \-- held out his hand and he was smiling, actually _smiling_ back, a grin the split his face and made him look _human_ , soft and happy and pleased, "Then let's go."

Evan took it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only thing anyone needs to know is that this Evan is the first Evan, the child that was killed by Fantomex.
> 
> With Nate back so early, I have compressed or eliminated the events of _Uncanny X-Force_ (and other X-Men comics where convenient). Wade basically took Psylocke's place with regards to Evan ... and since Wade doesn't use telepathy to read a room, Fantomex's bullet never reached Evan.
> 
> Which brings me to a point that irked me on my re-skimming of _Uncanny X-Force_ : Fantomex is absolved of Evan #1's murder by providing a "better brainwashed" Evan #2. Like, _really_?! WTH. 
> 
> I like Evan #2, but Evan #1 was a child who never wanted to kill anyone despite his brainwashing ... and he deserved a chance. This is his chance.


	5. ... and Daughters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott sells himself into servitude and craters are made in the lawn.

When Scott passed through the front door, he found Logan leaning against one of the awning's support pillars, attention fixed on the lawn's occupants as he idly rubbed his knuckles. 

"Whatever you're thinking about doing," Scott let the door fall silently shut behind him as he sighed, "don't do it." 

Logan grunted in response, which was all the confirmation Scott needed for his suspicions. "You see your boy?"

"Nathan stopped by the office, yes."

Even from this distance, Scott could see the grin that was splitting Wade's face in two as he raised both hands and flipped them the middle finger.

"You sure I can't do something about him?" Logan asked, stance shifting. 

Wade rocked forward and back on his the balls of his feet, leaning forward like a hound straining at his tether. Logan probably wouldn't appreciate Scott's observation that they were all too similar. "Try to remember the last time he picked a fight with you."

"Yeah," Logan grinned, "I won."

"The last time he picked a fight where he deliberately goaded us," Scott corrected himself. _He_ remembered it and he reminded himself of it every time he began to think that Deadpool wasn't a threat. "And Nathan is inside. He wouldn't appreciate you taking Wade up on it."

Logan absently rubbed his knuckles and grunted, rolling his shoulders like a cat resettling its fur. One day Scott would find out what had passed between Nathan and Logan that got that reaction from him.

"If you really want to do something, you can go tell Kitty that Evan won't be in her next class -- or any of her classes -- anymore."

Logan finally tore his eyes away from Wade so he could turn his glare on Scott, thrusting an arm out to point at the source of his discontent, "You're letting _him_ take the kid?!"

"I'm letting _Nathan_ and his husband _adopt_ Evan," Scott lifted an eyebrow above his glasses and spoke again to forestall the next demand, " ... and what would you suggest I do to prevent it? Kill Nathan? Because you know that's the only way we're going to stop him once he's made up his mind."

Logan glared at him furiously, before he lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, "No, 'course not. It's just ... that thing out there? That's a monster. And we can't just ... we can't just _let_ him have the kid. He ... " Logan shook his shaggy head as though he were a bear beset by flies.

"He's no more a monster than you are."

"That's -- "

"No, think about it." Scott interrupted contemplatively, "He probably doesn't drink nearly as much beer as you do ... or leave as many dirty clothes lying on the floor ... or walk around without a shirt on in front of impressionable and hormonal teenagers ... "

During the recitation of his faults, Logan's face lost its glare and fell into annoyance, "Aw, shut up. You ain't my wife."

"Go on inside, Logan," Scott smiled, amused, "I'll take care of it."

Logan glanced back at Wade.

"You do remember that I can blast pure force from my eyes, right? And since Wade heals better than you do, there isn't any reason to hold back."

Logan snorted, "Alright, alright. I'm going inside. Under protest."

"Of course."

"And only because you're too chicken to tell Kitty yourself and I'm taking mercy on you."

"She likes you better," Scott replied calmly, before he paused and added, "Can you tell Ororo too?"

"Tell her yourself," Logan chortled and finally gave up his post, punching Scott lightly in the shoulder as he headed back inside.

With Logan safely inside, Scott took his time in crossing the lawn, letting Wade and Hope anticipate him with his slow approach. 

The interesting thing was finding Wade out of costume. Scott was more comfortable than most people with all the ways that mutation could reshape the body, but that didn't make Wade easy to look at, and even with his experience it was difficult to hold the gaze of Wade's corpse white eyes. He didn't blame the other man for his desire to be unseen. Now, though ... Scott suspected Nathan's hand in Wade's clothes, because Wade was wearing the same style of scale mail as Nathan, but in a snug, sleeveless red that tucked into black pants. He had forgone the usual arsenal, but the hilts of his swords still poked up from above his shoulders and a pair of handguns were strapped to his thighs. 

If Wade and Nathan looked like they belonged in a war, Hope was dressed to resemble every little girl Scott had ever seen. She wore pink shorts and a blue shirt graced with a cheerful white unicorn. Her sneakers were purple with white laces, and the same unicorn winked from their sides. Her red hair fell past her shoulders, pinned back from her face with a pair of flower clips, and she watched him with a wary curiosity in her bright green eyes. 

"You and Logan going to set a wedding date anytime soon?" Wade asked in lieu of an actual greeting, grinning widely.

"I'm dating Emma."

"Fanfiction tells me otherwise." 

Scott let that pass as the utter nonsense it was.

"You Summers boys have a type." Wade wriggled his nonexistent eyebrows, still smiling that obnoxious grin. The too perfect teeth really were an odd effect when the rest of him was ruined. 

"It's lovely to see you too, Wade," Scott replied blandly, rolling his eyes from behind the safety of his glasses. He smiled and bent to offer his hand to Hope, "And you must be Hope. Hi. I'm Scott Summers."

Wade seemed happy enough to drop his needling now that introductions were underway. "He's your granddad. Nate's dad," he added cheerfully, pressing a hand to the center of Hope's back to gently nudge her forward.

Hope inspected Scott carefully before she glanced at Wade, who nodded. She cautiously put her hand in his, and then giggled when he solemnly shook it. "Hi. You have a plane."

Wade laughed outright at this blunt observation as Scott slowly straightened from his crouch, releasing her hand. "I do have a plane."

"Can I see it? Can I fly it? Could I fly it today?"

"Whoa! Whoa!" Scott helplessly lifted his hands under this sudden barrage of intense questions, "You can't see it." When Hope's face instantly fell, he swiftly added, "It's not here right now ... but maybe on your next visit, you can see it and sit in the pilot's chair."

She perked up, "Then I can fly it?"

Scott shook his head, bemused and pleased in equal measure at her enthusiasm, "You'll have to be older to fly a plane."

"You're still a little too short to reach the controls _and_ look out the window," Wade added cheerfully.

"How old?" Hope demanded.

"Ohhhhh ... " Wade squinted into the distance as Hope danced impatiently beside him, "I think at least as old as Granddad."

Hope swung her attention back around to Scott, squinting suspiciously, so Scott felt compelled to clarify the statement, "You can fly when you're sixteen."

"I'll never be that old!" Hope said with outraged huff, "I'm never old enough to do anything!" She folded her arms over her chest and glared so intently that her eyes almost seemed to glow red --

Wade's head whipped around and he lunged forward, a hand slapping over Hope's eyes even as he folded over her back, bearing her whole body down, tipping her head toward the ground -- and the concussive red blast from Hope's eyes shattered his hand to paste and bone fragments before it blew a hole in the lawn by Scott's feet.

Scott's beam passed harmlessly over Wade before it cut off. He realized, heart pounding with reaction, that Wade hadn't been trying to hurt Hope at all, he'd been trying to protect _Scott_ ... and Scott hadn't needed protecting from his own power. 

Wade eased his grip, his voice light and easy and rock steady, like he wasn't missing a _hand_ , "None of that now, baby girl. That's your granddad's power and you need to get his permission before you use it." He pulled his handless arm away and gave it a shake, the gush of blood already slowed to a trickle. "Whoooo, that stings!" 

"Papa!"

Wade straightened, running his hand lightly over Hope's hair, stroking, "I'm fine. Papa just needs more practice switching you off, kiddo. Definitely don't have the trick of it juuuuusssst yet."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. 

"Not me you need to be apologizing to, sweetheart. Gotta apologize to granddad for stealin'." Wade lightly booped her nose, "It ain't right. Stealin' powers. Not everyone's got nice semi-passive powers like Nate ... some people have powers that don't turn off. Just like mine doesn't ever turn off. So you can't just go grabbing them will-nilly when you're upset. That's how accidents happen and we end up with people parts all over very nice lawns."

Hope turned from Wade to Scott, transfixing him with big limpid eyes, lips quivering as she said solemnly, "I'm sorry, Granddad."

Scott took a shaky breath, pushing away the last of his own overreaction as he crouched down and reached out to gently grip her shoulder, "I accept your apology. Wade's right ... my powers, they don't turn off. That's why I wear these glasses, or a visor."

Hope rubbed her wet eyes, mood already beginning to swing upwards, "So it's not just a bad fashion statement?"

Wade giggled like a loon behind her, "It's the worst fashion statement! Can't they be blue or black or maybe a nice silver?"

On another day, he might have decided to take offense, but Scott could see the clench in Wade's jaw as he rubbed the arm that was regrowing its hand ... and he forgave him for using humor to hide his pain from Hope, keeping things steady and calm even though someone had lost a limb. Hope was sad for hurting him, for doing a thing she shouldn't ... but she wasn't frightened or angry or hurt. She was ... _safe_.

Hope wrinkled her nose and giggled, "Don't worry. Papa's mask is really the _worst_ fashion statement."

"I don't wear it for _me_ , I wear it for other people," Wade said casually, "Who wants to look at this?" He waved his mangled hand in the air, bones extending from the end, thinly sheathed in connective tissue. Even after all his time with Logan, Scott preferred not to look. "And besides, that mask is a thing of beauty and grace. Black and red is always in style."

"It's ugly. I don't like it. Papa thinks he has to hide, but he doesn't." Hope informed Scott solemnly, stepping in to lean against Scott like she had always known him, head resting on his shoulder. He tentatively put a hand on her back, barely daring to breathe. "I'm tired."

"Well, you haven't had a nap yet and you just blasted pure unbridled energy from your eyes like a champ," Wade said, wriggling his newly muscled fingers thoughtfully, "That'll take a lot out of anyone. Kids ... they have no stamina," Wade whispered behind his healing hand to Scott, like it was a secret. In Scott's experience, it was Scott who didn't have the stamina. The kids always had plenty.

"I don't need a nap! You don't nap!" Hope yawned despite her protest, hanging off Scott.

"Eh ... but I don't sleep either. It's a problem," Wade said blithely, even though his lack of sleep might help explain why he was such a nutcase, "But! But! Nate naps. He naps like a pro. I bet Scott naps too! It's a Summers thing, all Summers nap. Wilsons are immune."

"I do take a nap when I can find the time," Scott agreed easily, even if he hardly ever had the luxury. Still, he understood the purpose of Wade's circular logic and supported it. 

"Imnotasummers," Hope muttered as her eyelids fluttered shut and she passed out on his shoulder. She started to slide, but Scott caught her, holding her steady.

"Tsundere like a cactus, our girl," Wade grinned and then waved his completely healed hand, smooth skin already beginning to warp as cancer squirmed over the surface, "Hey, just pick her up, she's gonna be out of it for a while."

Scott lifted her up, rising carefully to his feet as he adjusted her in his arms until she was half draped over his shoulder. "Does this happen often?"

"She's five," Wade shrugged, "She needs her energy for growing, not for supering."

Broken down to its simplest terms, that was probably why they didn't see too many children with active mutations. Scott wasn't actually unhappy with that. It was already hard for teenagers to discover and deal with their mutations. For very young children, it could be too much for them and their families.

"Do you know what's weird?" Wade asked the air, idly kicking his shattered parts into the hole that Hope had dug in the earth.

Scott almost didn't want to know, but Wade didn't need him to respond to keep talking.

"That you're the granddad ... but both me and Nate are older than you. I mean, how does that even happen? Time travel sucks, except when it doesn't. Or does it suck? I mean, is it a time distortion blow job if the time portals ejaculate people?" 

Scott lifted his eyebrows, "You're not that much older than me."

"Puh-lease, I'm at least fifteen years older than you, and that makes me old enough to be your father, so that sort of makes everything weird. Stop sending your kids to the future. It never works out well. Like child napping. That's also a bad habit I'm trying to break Nate of. Or is he trying to break me of it? Someone's trying to break something."

"I see you've managed to break the lawn," Nathan said, coming up behind them. 

Scott jerked in surprise, but Wade instantly brightened and spun around, spreading his arms wide as Nathan closed the distance between them. "Nate!"

They met with a kiss, Wade's head tipping back as Nathan leaned in to meet him. Nathan's metal hand slid around the curve of Wade's waist to pull him in closer, finger tips coiling in a belt loop. "Remember when I said I preferred you naked?" Nathan murmured as their lips unsealed.

"I have to work my way up to full frontal public nudity," Wade said blithely, breathless, "Just because the future enjoys the free kiss of air on all their parts doesn't mean they're not going to have to work up to me being completely naked at all times."

"Also barefoot and in the kitchen," Nathan said with a smirk.

"There are so many kitchen knives with your name on it," Wade grinned, "So many spiders I'm going to feed you. They taste like crab, Nate."

Nathan snorted a laugh, "I have to change the future just so I never have to eat a spider leg that's a thick as my waist ever again."

"Crunchy on the outside, juicy on the inside."

"Stop."

"Mmmm, mmmm, delicious."

"No more. I refuse. I'd rather starve."

"Then I'd just have to feed you like a baby bird ... "

"To think I gave up age and experience for the sake of youth and beauty," Nathan said, looking up to grin conspiratorially at Scott over Wade's head. 

"Shut up!" Wade exclaimed, punching him in the metal shoulder, "Your one eye made you bl -- Evan!" 

"Um ... hi, Wade." Evan peeked hesitantly out from behind Nathan's bulk, clutching his backpack between his hands as he worried it nervously. His eyes widened in alarm and he dropped the bag as Wade flung his arms wide and lunged at him, grabbing him in an enthusiastic hug.

"Evan!" Wade ruffled Evan's hair ferociously, "Look at you, kid! You grew ten inches."

Skinny gray arms tentatively crept around Wade to hug him back as Evan muttered into the shoulder he was pressed against, "I've only been here a few weeks ... I didn't grow ten inches."

"Then it must have been fifteen inches!"

"The number's not supposed to go up!" Evan protested, but he clung to Wade even tighter than before.

"Pretty sure it is!" Wade said cheerfully, "That's why it's called 'growing up'."

Evan groaned.

"Tell him like it is, Nate! A whole twenty inches since I last saw him," Wade looked to Nathan for confirmation, who just shook his head and smiled, amused.

"Today is the first day I've met Evan, Wade."

Wade squinted suspiciously at Nathan over Evan's ruffled hair and Nathan smiled guilelessly back. Wade pressed a palm to the top of Evan's head and then slid it across to tap his own chest. "Hmmm, maybe just an inch. That's still a lot, though! What did they feed you? Growth hormones soaked in milk? All you can eat pizza? Buffet a la China Town?"

"Regular food," Evan answered, peeking cautiously at Scott from the circle of Wade's arms. Not that there was any reason to when Scott hadn't planned to contradict him. They weren't master chefs at the mansion, but they didn't let the kids go hungry. "Sandwiches. Spaghetti. Stuff like that."

Wade continued to fuss, grilling Evan on his eating, sleeping, and homework habits and Evan ... Evan just drank up the attention like a sponge soaked up water, like he had been waiting his whole life for someone to _care_. 

For the first time, Scott realized that Evan needed more than the Xavier Institute could provide. He needed more attention than they could give him as one child among many. He needed someone who could make him a priority. He needed a _family_ ... and whatever Wade might otherwise be lacking, he was willing to be that family ... _Nathan_ was willing to be that family ... and Scott no longer had the heart to deny Evan the opportunity to have what he so obviously _wanted_.

"If she's getting heavy, I can take her," Nathan's quiet voice jerked Scott out of his thoughts.

"What? No!" he protested immediately, hitching Hope higher in his arms. He had hardly practiced bench pressing five year olds, but that didn't mean he wanted to let her go, even if she _was_ heavy. She was here, alive and well and still young enough to hold onto ... to want to be held.

Nathan smiled, blue eye knowing, "You know, we're not far away as the Blackbird flies ... and even shorter by teleportation. Come by for ... well, for all the holidays. You can bring Emma and Alex if you like." 

"That would be ... that would be great. Thank you." Scott paused, feeling absurdly hopeful, and offered, "If you ever need a babysitter ... "

Nathan brightened instantly, eyes immediately darting to Wade, "I could make you a calendar of all the times I would love for you to come over and babysit."

"The offer's not even a second old and already you're abusing it," Scott said, the warmth of the moment letting the teasing come easy. Nathan just grinned at him shamelessly and Scott grinned back, feeling light with happiness. Maybe he hadn't gotten to know Hope when she was a baby ... but there was still time to know her ... and there was still time to know _Nathan_ too.

Nathan's gaze switched to Hope just in time for her to stir with a sleepy mumble and jerk upright in his arms, "Papa!"

"Right here!" Wade sang out immediately, half turning towards them, his arm slung securely over Evan's shoulders. Evan leaned into him, his arm curled around Wade's waist as worry crept into his expression. It depressed Scott to realize that he could recognize the expression as worry because he had seen it so often on the boy's face.

"Dad?" Hope stretched out her arms in silent demand and Nathan stepped forward and took her from Scott, who reluctantly let her go.

"Right here. Did you have a good nap?"

"I wasn't napping," Hope contradicted, burrowing her face in Nathan's neck. 

Nathan flashed Scott a conspiratorial grin as he rubbed Hope's back with a broad hand, "Sleeping during the day, then?"

"Dad," Hope lifted her head to make a face at him, "I wasn't! You're the only one who sleeps during the day."

Wade laughed. 

"Et tu, Papa?" Hope huffed, which only made Wade laugh at her some more. Then she caught sight of Evan and focused on him intently, "Who's this?"

Wade looked down at Evan with a happy smile, "This is Evan."

Evan gave her a small wave, smiling tentatively, "Um ... hi."

"My new brother," she looked to Nathan for confirmation and he nodded.

"That's right!" Wade said cheerfully, "Evan, this is Hope. Nate kidnapped her, just like I was going to kidnap you. Childnapping is a Summers family tradition."

"I wasn't kidnapped," Nathan replied mildly as Hope let go of him. She might have fallen out of his arms with her downward lunge if her father hadn't been ready for her maneuver and set her lightly on the ground. "So it can't be a tradition."

Wade thrust a finger at Nathan and waved it around, "You were kidnapped by demons. You just don't remember it because you were a baby. Then you got kidnapped by the future."

"Your definition of kidnapping seems to be expanding with every example."

"The sample space of kidnapping is bigger than you ... " Wade trailed off into uncharacteristic silence as Hope strode over to Evan and stared up at him.

Evan stared back, openly confused by her approach, before Hope finally spoke, as solemn as a state official, "It's okay. Don't be sad."

"I'm not ... " Evan began, only to trail off as Hope leaned against his leg and hugged him, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

"I'll protect you, little brother."

"I ... " Evan rested a hand tentatively on top of her head. Then he started to smile, a shy happy thing that lifted Scott's heart, " ... okay, big sister."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scott Summers building a crib for Hope is how this chapter and the one before it even came into existence in the first place. I don't even know what comic it's in, but I love it and it breaks my heart.


End file.
